The Final Countdown
by Rain Drops of Laughter
Summary: Life times do not matter. The years before and the years to come are meaningless. It is only these ten simple minutes which make all the difference.


An:?/ I don't know what to say. I kind of just wrote this. Sorry if the characters seem a bit off. I'm still trying to get the feel of them.

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The Final Countdown

He let the cigarette fall from his hands watching it burn on the ground before sliding his foot over it. Glancing at his watch he noted that it was 10 minutes till midnight. If that man did not show up soon he would leave. It got tiresome continuously waiting on the man. "If you could even call him that." Netherlands snorted. This would not be last time he left without ever seeing Denmark though he had hoped for him to show. "Oh well," Netherlands sighed "Some days just aren't as special to everyone as there are to some." 9 minutes to go.

…

"Shit. shit. shit. Oh fuck shit." Denmark said looking at the red light in front of him wishing that for one he could simply will it green. Didn't the world know how important this day was. He could not be late this time. "FUUUUUUUCK!" Denmark yelled head hitting the steering wheel. Turing right he cursed again there was no way he would make it. The streets were too packed. Glancing at the clock he noted it was 11:52.

"Come on! come on! I've only got 8 minutes to get there. Looking at the endless line of cars in front of him and the clock Denmark decided he would not be late this time. He could. Turning his car off and opening the door he took off in a run. Hoping against all odd he would make it this time. "Come on Den! You have to make it. For him." 7 minutes to go.

…

Fireworks exploded. Colors danced in the sky; Netherlands still leaned underneath a lamppost. The only working light around, the rest turned off as people celebrated. He watched people walk, hand and hand. Sometimes even sharing a scarf. "It's 11:54, do you know where your lover is?" He said bitterness weeping into his voice. It wasn't so much the lateness of the man that bothered him. Just that he was late today. Any other day was fine. "Why did you have to pick today? Why?" He asked looking up at the sky. A few first snowflakes falling onto his face. 5 minutes now is your lover wrapped up in your arms?

…

Jumping over trashcans spilling someone else's unwanted things into the street. But it doesn't stop him. Grabbing a post he swings in him into the street feet carrying him even faster. He has to make it. A box weighs heavily in his pocket reminding him of why. The why that has driven him for so long. The why he is running. The why, his love. The one and only man who knew him inside and out and nothing not even a car could stop him. Denmark looks up and find a clock the big hand inching. Tick by tick. 11:56 Time has a way of slipping away.

"Almost there! I have to make it... I love him." Denmark shouted sliding onto the final street. All he had to do now was make it to Netherlands. Fate could and can only do so much. 3 minutes to go does your love know you love him?

…

11:58

Netherland pushed himself away from the lamp post. Brushes the snow off his jacket and steeling himself for the walk home. Alone. Denmark was not coming. He has to face it. Maybe they just weren't meant to be. Being countries can ruin things, and you would like it would make disappointment so much easier. But it's different when it's your heart. Taking one final look down the street Netherlands began his walk home. 1 minute to go do you not have any last hope?

…

11:59:30

Denmark bounded down the street sliding across the icy patches that threatened to stop him. With less than a minute to go he sped up willing himself to walk even faster. Looking up ahead he saw a man walking away. "Please be Netherlands. Please be him. PLEASE let it be him!" Denmark chanted as he approached the man.

Less than a meter away a frozen bit of sidewalk sent him sprawling across the sidewalk. "NETHERLANDS!" He yelled in a desperate attempt to ge the man to turn around. The box in his pocket flying in the through the air landing gracefully in front of the man.

…

A chime rings out over the city. thousand of fireworks cover the sky turning it into a sea of color. A young man notices a box in front of him. Looking around he notices a man laying on the ground. Not moving.

A second chime.

The man on the ground lifts his head up only to see the young man from earlier walking towards him box in hand. Maybe he had made it on time. Maybe it was not too late. Proping himself up the man waited. built up on hope.

Ding, Dong. A 3rd.

"Hey there man" The young man says his eyes taking in the man lying on the ground. He let the man finnish propping himself up. "I think ya dropped this." He adds holding it out to the man. The man looks away from him and seems to make a choice before speaking.

"Open the box" the man uges.

A fourth. And fifth

Arching one eyebrow up, he open the box. Noticing a slip of paper inside. Taking it out the man almost drops the box. At the words. Silence wounds itself around them, filling in cracks, and offering up comfort. The clock and time however went on.

6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

"How?" Netherlands asks not bothering to look up. "I have my ways." Denmark says smirking still lying in the cold wet snow. Pulling himself up to his knees he turns towards his one and only love.

"More like idiotic tendencies." Netherlands says back falling into their old a familiar routine. Slowly he peek at the ring underneath. Almost sighing at the sight of it worried what Denmark would have gotten him. Knowing that Denmark would never pick out anything he would like. It was a simple plain band. One which would go unnoticed.

Denmark slides his hands over Netherlands'. He doesn't ask the question again. It is unnecessary. All he has to do it wait. Hope and wait.

11.

"Yes." Netherlands whispers eyes staring straight at Denmark before pulling the man up and into his arms. This is why he put up with the lateness. Holding on tightly Denmark smiled happy to finally have his love, his why, his everything. His was now his.

Pulling back Denmark slipped the ring onto Netherlands finger letting his hand brush over it. Taking in the Netherlands was his. Only his. Hands found their way into his hair tugging at it. Lips met in a tender kiss filled with every minute put into to this moment.

A clock chimed. 12:00

Two lovers kissed on the street. A sweet passion. As the rest of the world moved on. A slip of paper laid on the ground forgotten by the two men. The words standing out against the snow.

will je met me trouwen?

Denemarken


End file.
